


True Love’s Mess

by CountessOfLovelace (Original_Cypher)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Sleeping Curse, Trope - sleeping curse, Trope - true love’s kiss, Tropes, True Love's Kiss, race against the clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 01:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/CountessOfLovelace
Summary: The Sleeping Curse AU nobody asked for.“This is bullshit,” Clint hissed. His voice was soft but they all heard him clearly in the ambient hush. “He’s right here. He’sright here.” He gestured towards Tony’s body. “And they stillhavehim.”“Hehatedbeing a hostage,” Bruce added.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 257





	True Love’s Mess

The instants leading up to Tony’s fall took place within a blink.

Everything had been happening too fast for too long, their luck was bound to run out.

When the wizard stopped yelling back at Iron Man and shoved both hands towards him, expression tight with focus, neither Tony nor Steve had enough time to react fully. They started moving, but the Iron Man suit was barely a few inches off the ground when the spell hit. Tony was engulfed in the blast of blue lightning and Steve had only covered half the distance between them. He had been rushing over without a real plan. His shield had been put out of commission a few moments prior, so he most likely would have used _ himself _as one when he got there. It probably would have resulted in the same situation in reverse, but instincts had been at the helm. 

Dread pooled in Steve’s chest when he saw Iron Man get entirely swallowed by the light. It only lasted for a few seconds. As the brightness receded, he expected Tony to be blown back by the impact, but that wasn’t what happened. Steve watched the thick metal silhouette visibly seize up, like it was being jolted by a strong electrical current, then slump like a rag doll, just in time for him to catch the suit before it collapsed to the ground.

Steve made it to Tony’s side, cold terror making his heart hammer and threatening to take over his focus. Tony lay unresponsive. The suit’s faceplate was still halfway lifted, as he'd uncovered his face to try and talk the group of wizards down. He'd been hit before it was fully lowered again, and Steve was left looking at Tony's face, slack and expressionless, eyes closed.

Steve frantically looked from the aggressor, who seemed to be simply hovering midair and watching, to Tony, while trying and failing to wedge his fingers around his teammate’s neck to check for a pulse. Panic rising, he neglected his own safety and focused entirely on Tony. He bit into his glove so he could yank it off, bringing his hand to Tony's face again. He held his fingers close to Tony's mouth and nose and shuddered in relief when he felt signs of breathing, strong enough to be picked up out here, in open air. 

"What did you _ do _to him?!" he snarled, glowering at the wizard. 

"I secured our exit strategy." The wizard rose in the air again, and Steve scrambled to his feet, rage boiling over the panic. "Your man is down, Captain. Your team will now let us go because catching us is less important than your love for Tony Stark." He raised an eyebrow at Steve. "Frankly, Captain, a team with such strong bonds as yours is efficient and deadly in battle, but it comes with a pretty big weakness. Take one out, break everybody."

Steve took a step forward. He was going to break _ somebody, _ alright. 

"Uh uh," the guy singsonged, shaking a finger at him. "If you come at me I might just leave without telling you how to get him back."

Get him back. 

So he wasn’t simply knocked out. He’d been hit by a spell, a binding one.

"How?!"

There was a new crack of lightning behind the hovering foe, except this one was black. Not black in color, but by the absence of light. And it cut through reality. Seconds later, as thunder rumbled, the wizard’s accomplices flew or appeared by his side, then vanished through the opening. And Steve… just let them.

He wasn't just outmatched in power. He was beaten.

The head wizard gave him one last look, just as the Hulk came bounding closer, snarling, only to trail off with a pained noise upon seeing Tony sprawled limply at Steve's feet. "Hold your men, Captain. And you might bring them all home."

"How do I get him back?" 

Hawkeye ran in and fell to his knees at Tony's side in the same rush of movement, checking for vitals just like Steve had earlier. 

"You have one week. Find it for him, and he may live. If you don't, he will sleep forever."

Clint spit out a curse under his breath. 

"Find what?" 

The wizard smirked, and floated backwards through the magical tear. And they said _ Cap _ was big on theatrics. "True love's kiss. Bitch."

  
  


# Day 1

Clint was the first to lose it. He laughed and cried, shaking with how upset he was, nerves frayed from the endurance fight they had just lost. "He made Stark into Sleeping Beauty!" 

"We'll get him back, Clint."

Clint scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to both wipe away tears and contain a hysterical giggle. "He'd be _ so mad _. Oh my god, he's a Disney Princess!"

Steve wasn’t a big fan of the use of the conditional. "We'll get him _ back _, Clint."

Clint let out a bark of laughter, and pinned Steve with a look. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

The Hulk growled then, cutting off any snarling match Steve might have started when he opened his mouth, glaring at Hawkeye. With the gentlest care, the green giant cradled Tony’s unresponsive body into his big hands with a mournful look and looked to Steve.

Right. Captaining.

He held his breath in for a few extra seconds, then sighed. “Let’s go back. They’re gone, anyway. We need to figure this out.”

Steve closed the march as they trudged back to the jet. Natasha fell into step by his side. “We’ll get him back, Steve.”

He sighed. “I hope so.”

They continued in gloomy silence for a while. “_ Wizards _.” She spat it like it tasted foul.

“Wizards.”

***

Steve, lulled by the rumbling of the jet’s engines and the shock of the emotional suckerpunch, let himself drift during the flight back. He became enthralled by small details, zeroed in on them.

On how eerily quiet Clint had become, and how his eyes kept flicking to Tony’s face and looking away like he couldn’t stand the sight. The arrow he rolled back and forth between his fingers.

Bruce, small and haggard, wrapped up in a blanket. Tony, quiet, quiet, quiet.

A cut on Clint’s calf, blood faintly oozing out, staining his outfit dark.

Steve’s eyes drifted to a small shaving cut, high on the arch of Tony’s cheek. Would the spell have worked if the suit had been closed? It had a space proof sealing mechanism, after all. What if the magic had needed to get to Tony’s skin? In that case, perhaps the yelling and engaging that had prompted Tony to try to talk them down had been a simple ploy to get him close. To get him to lower his defenses.

Did this mean that Tony had been the target of this attack all along? Everyone else had skin on display, so it took extra effort to get to Tony’s.

Or maybe that wasn’t it at all, it had nothing to do with skin contact, and Steve was just running with a stupid theory.

Natasha kept rushing Tony’s hair in place with her fingertips and stroking what she could reach of his face, as it was still ensconced in the helmet. She was the one who met Steve’s eyes and broke the silence. “We’re going to have to call Pepper.”

Pepper, who, of course, would want to know about this. Pepper, who was staying away from Avengers business and running Stark Industries for Tony for a reason. Pepper, who’s relationship with Tony had fallen apart, because being an Avenger was who he was and needed to be, and she couldn’t stand seeing, and knowing, and being terrified he wouldn’t come back in one piece, every single time.

And now Steve had to tell her her nightmares had come true.

“_ Dammit _.”

***

They sent word to three more people. Coulson, because _ he _ could deal with paperwork and PR bullshit while they dealt with their _ friend _. Also, who knew, maybe S.H.I.E.L.D had a witch on payroll somewhere?

Thor, in case he knew of anything that could work to lift a sleeping curse.

And Rhodes, because he was Tony’s emergency contact and Living Will. But mostly because he was Tony’s dear friend, his _ family _. If this wasn’t going to be solved within a week, if they failed Tony, then Rhodes would want to be here, as humans do, to feel helpless in proximity to their loved ones, rather than afar. Because somehow it mattered.

After that, there was nothing left to do. Nothing mundane was tolerable to think about. No thought of showering, or feeding one’s self. No chore or rest. They all just stood, scattered around Tony’s gigantic living room, silent, not acknowledging the elephant in the room. An elephant in the shape of Tony’s body, sans suit, resting prone on the table in the middle of their small assembly.

Steve remembered, with chilling clarity, the way he felt when he witnessed Tony Stark being hit dead on by the blast of blue lightning. And now he watched his team, knowing they felt exactly the same. The bastard had been right. _ Take one out, break everybody. _

Take _ Tony _out, break everybody.

Tony, specifically.

They all cared for each other, but Tony was the heart of the team. Not simply a center, a ball of sass, smarts and restless energy that made the link between all of them. He was the most human of them all. He reminded them that they were friends when they fought, that they were allowed to when they felt down, that they were good people, that they would win.

The mere prospect of losing him had stopped the team dead in its tracks. 

“This is bullshit,” Clint hissed. His voice was soft but they all heard him clearly in the ambient hush. “He’s right here. He’s _ right here _ .” He gestured towards Tony’s body. “And they still _ have _him.”

“He _ hated _being a hostage,” Bruce added.

# Day 2

“It seems to be what the warlock said,” Phil announced after escorting the techs and the strange child with the white eyes back to the main elevator. “Sleeping curse. We can’t pinpoint the release but we have no reason to assume he lied to you,” he said, addressing Steve. “I’m told it is also a simple spell, so it would make sense to use it in battle, improvised or not. It’s extremely effective and not very demanding in set up or energy.”

“Great. So we have Tony in a deadly Chinese finger trap,” Clint huffed.

“Those exist,” Natasha pointed out.

“I’m most worried about the deadline set. According to our... _ consultant, _ after the week has expired, Tony will continue sleeping, aging until his normal life expectancy. But the spellcaster said that you had a week, and then there would be no way to wake him up. It seems there is something about Tony’s aura that confirms that.”

“So we’re on a timer,” Steve concluded, sense of doom rising.

Jarvis cut in. “Miss Potts has arrived on the premises.”

Natasha sighed, chewed on her lower lip, eyes on Tony’s face. 

“One last thing,” Coulson met Steve’s eye. “The spell can’t be lifted. It is tied to Tony’s life... energy, or something like that. If a witch or wizard were to remove the spell, it would remove Tony’s quality of being alive.”

“It would kill him.”

Coulson made a face. “That… would, unbelievably, be a best case scenario. Magic is tricky. For all we know, it could make him undead. Or an empty shell, without a Tony Stark in it.”

“Breaking the spell. No lifting the spell.” _ Fuck. _ “Got it.”

Coulson nodded. “I will leave you some privacy for this.” He walked off, stopping to rest a hand on Clint’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear, to which Barton nodded. Steve assumed he was asking to be kept in the loop of what happened next, though it was strange he would find the need to ask. 

He wondered if he should take offence.

“Pepper’s on her way up,” Natasha said, glancing up from her phone, and Steve braced himself for one of the worst hours of his life.

***

Steve had known Pepper as Tony’s lover, as his ex lover and business partner. He’d been a witness of moments that showed that their friendship, post breakup, was finding its footing and growing strong again. He’d also known Pepper as part of the group. Not the Avengers themselves, not Shield, but as a point person and a relay in a crisis, and also a friend to Natasha, Hill and Rhodes, a friendly acquaintance to them all.

He considered her a strong person. Anyone who could run Tony Stark’s life for a decade and then run his company had smarts, nerves of steel, and a strong intellect.

It was hard to watch her walk in, already looking so shaken. It was worse seeing her trembling hand come up to cover her mouth as her face crumbled in grief. It made Steve want to run away, to scream and punch something until he hurt enough he forgot for a second.

But he made himself stay. He stood still, and would unless Pepper asked them to leave. He would be there for her, and for his team. But beyond that, this was his responsibility. He had failed, as Captain. He hadn’t brought everyone back in one piece.

He’d failed the team.

He’d failed her.

He’d failed Tony.

So he would stay, and witness the consequences of his actions.

***

Natasha took point. She hugged Pepper and explained what had happened in more detail. She explained about the curse and how it could be lifted. Pepper blinked at her, wiping her cheeks with delicate fingers. “But he…” she looked at Natasha, eyes wide. “He’s not seeing anyone new, is he? I don’t think…” she sniffed. “I know it would be awkward to tell me, but I can’t imagine he’d hide it either.”

“Not that we know of,” Natasha said.

“So you were hoping I….” Pepper turned to look at Tony again, blinked up at the ceiling, trying to contain a new wave of tears. “God, this looks like a deathbed.”

“He’s asleep.” Natasha rubber her shoulder. “Earlier, he snored a bit.”

Pepper let out a little gust of laughter, looking at her friend thankfully. Then back at Tony. “What if…” he turned pleading eyes to Natasha. “We’re not… We’re not together anymore. What if it’s not enough?”

“You love him.”

Pepper’s eyes welled up. “Yes.” There was no trace of doubt in her statement. “But is it _ true love _?”

“We don’t know,” Nat admitted, but she took Pepper’s hands in hers. “Your love is sincere. It predates your romantic entanglements. It survived them, too.”

“We’re family,” Pepper said gently, eyes on Tony’s sleeping face. “We always were.” She sniffed, and shook herself, appearing taller. Then she walked up to Tony.

She took him in from up close, looking over his face. They’d scrubbed off some of the grime from the battle, but he had a healing cut from a week ago above his brow. A split lip from their latest battle. Steve wanted to hang his head in shame, but he made himself watch as she brushed her fingertips near the wounds, then across the crows feet near his eyes, a faint smile grazing her lips. He thought he heard her whisper his name. She looked at him for a long time, then leaned down, her hair falling to hide the kiss from Steve. She kept her hands on his face when she pulled back.

They all waited. Steve noted that most of them were holding their breath, and then realised that he’d done the same. Nothing happened. Seconds ticked by. Tony’s chest rose. And fell. And he didn’t blink. Didn’t twitch. He slept on.

Pepper’s frame gave a small shake, like something at her core contracted and released. Then there was another quake, more visible, more violent. And soon her face was crumbling, sobs wracking her body. “I’m sorry.” Her hands were still framing Tony’s face, like a plea, a prayer.

“I’m so sorry.”

Bruce was the one who came to her side, gently guided her arms back towards her own body. 

“I’m so sorry. Tony.”

Bruce held her when she looked like she was about to slide down to her knees. He guided her to the couch and sat helplessly, a hand in the middle of her back, as she let out sounds that only hurt harder.

Pepper kept crying. Kept saying she was sorry. Steve wasn’t sure if she was expressing grief or apologizing to Tony. Or to them.

Eventually, it was Natasha who crouched in front of Pepper, a hand on Bruce’s knee. She spoke in a soothing tone and suggested that perhaps Pepper needed to step away for a while. That she shouldn’t be alone but that she didn’t need to stay _ here _.

There was a wordless moment between Bruce and Natasha, during which she flicked her eyes away and meet Steve’s, then Bruce nodded and was the one to accompany Pepper away.

Steve understood the idea. To go away and process information, feelings, let hormones and neurons do their work until you were less overwhelmed by a situation. It didn’t make it any better, but it made you able to function while in it. It was rational. It made sense.

He hadn’t been able to leave Tony’s side. 

No one had called him out on it, but he figured they all knew. He needed to stay. It wasn’t a Captain thing.

It wasn’t _ just _a Captain thing. 

It was a Steve thing. Or maybe it was a Tony thing.

Parts of Steve simply couldn’t _ believe _ that this was real. That it had happened. Not because of the magic or the ridiculousness of their lives was unbelievable, but because it _ wasn’t _ . Steve had been born in 1918 and now here he was, in his thirties, in the next millennia. Tony had come face to face with death a hundred times and headbutted it with a _ not today, pal _ each time. With feats of heroics, genius, luck or all three combined, they’d all backflipped out of lethal situations with a few cuts and bruises. Steve’s psyche… his heart… clung to a fierce conviction that this was just another one of them. He _ refused _to believe.

He’d seen denial before, when men were crossed off abruptly, and he’d actually caught himself, at war, forgetting for a moment or two that one of his friends or colleagues had been blown up in front of him just yesterday, and looking for them or assigning them a position before remembering. He’d never experienced anything worse than the moment it all slammed back into him.

He had to stay. He needed to. To see it. To watch Tony and remind himself, every damn second, that this was reality. That Tony was in a critical state and…

That it looked like there wasn’t much more to do.

Clint, silent up until now, rubbed a hand down his face. He unfolded from his perch on the back of a sofa and stepped up to Tony’s side, looking down at his face. As much as they bickered and jibbed at each other, it was evident that him and Tony were friends. They had obviously shared moments of serious talking, or companionship that hadn’t included banter. It was plain on Clint’s face, that he was, just as all of them, coming to the realization that they were pretty fucked. That losing one of their own was becoming a possibility with overwhelming odds. “You asshole,” he whispered, voice raw, pressing the knuckles of his hand into the flesh of Tony’s shoulder.

Steve lowered his gaze, feeling angry and responsible. He hated that he couldn’t work out what they could have done better.

Natasha’s feet came into view. He eyed her, then the elevator through which Pepper had left, and back. “You expected this.”

“Pep and I talk,” she admitted. “They split because they fell out of love, not because they didn’t get along. I wanted to believe that it… I didn’t want to discourage her, or jinx it-...”

“You don’t believe in jinxes,” Clint’s voice cut in.

“But it seems that either the spell truly calls for someone that’s in love with him. Or the kind of love that’s not marred by a _ not anymore. _”

“Like… she does love him, but she could love him _ more _, because once, she did, so it’s not valid?”

“Maybe. We just… don’t know…”

# Day 3

In the late morning, Steve entered the room to find Lt. Col. Rhodes hugging Tony’s limp body fiercely, face pressed to his friend’s neck, making sounds like someone who is trying not to scream in anguish and frustration. Hope faded a little more.

Rhodes and Stark loved each other the way brothers in arms do. And they had for decades. If it hadn’t worked, then the curse demanded romantic love.

***

“We could try stalkers?”

“What?! _ No _.”

“Why not? Stark gets plenty of mega fans that write him letters and stuff about how much they love him and try to sneak into the tower and shit. Maybe they could be something else but a nuisance and security risk, for once?”

“It wouldn’t work,” Coulson asserted.

“It’s not love, Clint,” Natasha said. “It’s obsession. They don’t know him, it can’t be love.”

“Are we sure about that? Do we want to bet Tony’s life on it?”

Steve hated, with a coil of acid in his gut, admitting that Clint’s interrogations were valid.

“I asked,” Coulson said somberly. “We’re sure.”

“_ Fuck _.”

And that was that.

# Day 4

“They were caught,” Phil said somberly. “I’m afraid our fears have been confirmed, even the caster himself cannot lift the spell without harming Tony. He said it is too simple to have a reversal mechanism. They will pay for this…”

“... but they cannot help.”

***

Tony hadn’t been a deliberate target. However, he’d been singled out as a convenient one in case of a need for a diversion to cover their retreat. Tony had been Plan B. An escape route fascination. Why him?

Because he was the unit’s weakness. Everybody loved him.

_ Take _ that _ one out, break everybody. _

***

Steve left Bruce to his meditation and wandered back to Tony’s bedroom. They’d moved him to his own space after it became apparent that they had run out of ideas a while ago.

Steve was distracted enough that he didn’t hear anything coming. He could only react and reflexively catch Pepper as she walked into him the moment they both aimed to round the same corner from opposite sides. “Jee-... I’m sorry,” she mumbled, stepping back, hastily wiping a tear from under her eye.

“Are you…?”

They exchanged a look, agreeing that no, nothing was okay anymore and yes, asking was absurd.

“Can I help?” he opted for, instead.

She shook her head, lips drawing a thin line. “I thought maybe _ I _could, but…” she hugged herself as she continued speaking. “I kept thinking... I try, if I stay, I’ll… I’ll love him enough again, but I… I do. I love him. I don’t know how I can love him more, I’m just… I’m sorry. I can’t help.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m just not in love.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, insides churning.

“But it’s not,” Pepper argued back. “How many times has he saved me? Saved us? Someone should save _ him _.”

Steve stared down the corridor to Tony’s bedroom. He agreed. On every aspect. 

Pepper squeezed his forearm. “It’s not your fault either.”

Except that one.

***

_ Take one out, break everybody. _

***

“How are you?”

Steve had made it a point to check on the team’s well being. Maybe it was a distraction from worrying about his own mood, but having something to do, people to care for, helped. Then he realised he’d forgotten someone.

“Is your inquiry in relation to Sir’s current condition?”

Steve almost smiled. Jarvis occasionally shared with his creator the - perhaps purposefully - evasive tendency to answer a question with a question. He turned his head and gazed at the wall of pictures by his bed. He was lying on his back halfway up the mattress, resting with his hands on his stomach, knees bent and feet on the ground at the foot of the bed. It was silly, because Jarvis wasn’t _ in _the ceiling, but he always wanted to address it when speaking to the AI. “Yes.”

“As I do not have human emotions, I don’t believe it would be correct to say I am ‘grieving’,” Jarvis said. “but it does process similarly.”

Extending one arm, Steve pulled one of the pictures free, and brought it closer to his face. It had been taken at the end of a training exercise. At the very edge of the frame, Natasha could be seen, mid laugh. She was batting away a hand which, considering the black and purple fingerless gloves that covered it, could only belong to Clint. In the center, Steve had been smiling for the camera, standing in a relaxed manner. One of his hips was faintly cocked to the side, for his weight had been resting more on one leg than the other, rather than the stiff, square shouldered posture the team loved to poke fun at him for. Next to him in the photo, and in reality standing back just one step, Tony, in the Iron Man suit minus the helmet, had adopted a goofy pose. The metallic red devil horns he’d been making behind Steve’s head were barely visible.

“Don’t mourn just yet.”

Jarvis did not speak for an uncharacteristically long time, so much so that Steve had just assumed his remark didn’t warrant an answer. “Do you still have hope, Captain?”

Steve rolled himself up to a sitting position. “I have a pretty hard time taking no for an answer.”

# Day 6

“Mute.”

***

It was strange the way the team seemed to seek each other out more at socially appropriate times, in the past few days. They paired up more often, even if it was simply Bruce attempting to read while Clint was half heartedly checking and doing some maintenance on fletchings in the late morning. Or Natasha wordlessly joining Steve for a go at a punching bag of her own in the afternoon.

It was during the meals that it seemed the most obvious. The team would congregate in the kitchen helping each other to cook and set the table, staying around while they would usually wait to be called and perhaps take a plate with them to go back to their guest rooms to carry on with whatever they had been doing. There was never any music, or radio playing. Jarvis had never offered, none of them had turned on a device, all aware that it would bruise, given the general mood looming over everybody.

“Wow,” Tony quipped, true to himself, as he padded into the kitchen in sock clad feet. “Whose wake is this?”

There was a sharp crashing noise as someone dropped whatever they had been holding.

“Tony?!”

“Yes, I live her-...o-okay…” Steve noted the surprise and confusion on Tony’s face when he found himself with an armful of Natasha. “Uh, hello.”

“Stark, are you okay?” Clint pressed.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, and stole Natasha’s spot as soon as she pulled back. Tony’s face at getting a bear hug from the doc would have been downright hilarious if it hadn’t been in this context. Even Clint came closer to make sure what he could reach of Tony’s arm was tangible. 

When he was freed, Tony sought Steve’s eyes. “So um, I woke up on my bed,” he said with a small, awkward grin. “Not _ in _ my bed, on it. Also, fully clothed, but not hungover, so that’s an unknown for me.” He shrugged. “Last thing I remember was arguing with a Harry Potter wannabe, _ you _were with me,” he told Steve. “Anybody want to fill me in?”

They all just stared back. Drinking him in, reeling from the relief at the change, shaken from hearing his voice for the first time in so long, as verbose as ever.

“That was nearly a week ago,” Steve managed eventually.

“Hm. So I was right, it _ was _my wake, sort of.” Tony made a face. “So, what happened? Considering I’m alive and… uncharacteristically uninjured? He knock me out? Coma?” He frowned. “Was it that blue light ray thing?”

Steve nodded, then looked away from Tony’s trusting eyes. “Sleeping curse.”

“_ That’ _s a thing?” Tony made a disgusted sound. A beat passed, then: “Does that make me Biar Rose? Because I want it on record that I hate that trope.”

Clint crowed. “That’s what _ I _said.”

“Aw, you _ do _know me. C’mere,” Tony laughed as he claimed the hug he hadn’t yet received from his teammate.

Steve took the opportunity to squeeze Tony’s shoulder, “It’s good to have you back,” and escaped before he could be pulled in the celebration.

# Day 7

The wee hours of the morning found Steve down in the gym, attempting to work out his feelings in the area Tony had designed especially for someone with serum enhanced needs. _ Attempting _, key operator here.

Everywhere he looked, there Tony was. 

He was in the attentionate equipment designs that were made to suit the needs and whims of each member of the team, which Tony had created without being asked, because even when they were butting heads or unofficial, he’d been proud to be part of the initiative. 

He was in an old Mark II helmet resting at the very top of the climbing wall. A climbing wall that could be inert, but that also had Jarvis-provided options to ‘be tricky’, from crumbling surfaces to attack simulations. They’d started a tradition that whoever managed to get all the way up during a Full Scale training scenario got to add a doodle or a message to the helmet. Steve had only managed once, only to find he’d been beaten to it by someone who’d written ‘I’m with stupid’ with an arrow pointing at the faceplate - Natasha? - and someone else who had doodled a bow and arrow.

Steve thought back of Tony, upstairs, awake and well, and tried to find comfort in it. Only guilt swelled and threatened to choke him. He’d failed Tony in several ways.

Everywhere he looked, there Tony was.

In person, even, as the man was striding into the gym. His expression flickered when he spotted Steve. “Found you,” Steve heard him mutter to himself as he walked closer. Tony was shoeless again, but his feet were bare this time, and his clothes fresh. His hair was damp from a recent shower. He looked in his element, walking across the sparring mat in sweatpants. However, his fancy, snuggly looking sweater, so thin and soft that it barely blurred the shape of the arc reactor shine, indicated that he hadn’t come down for a workout.

Steve flexed his hands, balling his fists so it strained the wrapping around them almost painfully, then sighed, and started removing them. Because Tony… _ Tony _ Goddamn _ Stark _, Master in the art of Ignoring Something Until It Goes Away, surely looked like he wasn’t going to let this one slide.

“So, the docs say I’m f-... well.” Tony gestured down to his bruised up body, which was kept alive through a piece of high tech engineering in his chest. “I’m just as I would have been minus the curse.”

Steve heaved a relieved sigh, throwing the removed bandages somewhere by his feet and gave Tony a genuine smile. “That’s very good to hear.”

“Coulson hasn’t tried _ hounding _ me for a debrief quite yet, but I’m dodging so far, on account of my _ poor me, I was waylaid by a wizard _card.” Tony grunted as he hoisted himself onto a waist high pile of mats and sat down on it. “What do you think my chances are that I manage that long enough that they forget about it?” he mused with a joking grin.

Steve snorted. “Very slim.”

Tony made a face. Of course, he’d known as much, but Steve had learned since meeting the man, that jokingly pouting and whining about things he knew were unavoidable made him feel better. And, to be fair, also proved to be entertaining to witness, provided you weren’t the one tasked with getting Tony to do something he didn’t feel like. Pepper had once described making Tony sign paperwork to Steve as trying to herd a kitten through an obstacle course. Steve, who had once wanted to punch a wall out of frustration while trying to get an uncaffeinated Tony to cooperate, had found the analogy extremely accurate, no matter how cute the pouting was.

The companionable silence they had lapsed in lasted just long enough for Steve to think he was safe, but then Tony sighed. “So,” he drawled, bouncing his heels against the mats. “I guess I should say thank you.”

“Tony…” A literal statement of gratitude shouldn’t have felt cruel, but somehow it _ stung _. It felt humiliating, even though there was nothing gloating in Tony’s demeanor. “Don’t.”

Tony ignored his words, or failed to register them. He seemed curious, with a small gleam of scientific excitement in his eyes when he spoke. “How did you figure it out? Was it when Pepper didn’t work?”

Steve blinked back. “What?”

“You didn’t tell the others, they seem to think there was a delay.” He huffed. “I mean, there _ was _a delay, but not from Pepper. I don’t mind if they know, by the way, which… I mean, they’ll have to, right? Because debriefing, ugh. And it’s kind of unfair to Pep if we let her think...” Tony cut himself off to scrub a hand over his face. “I just… this is embarassing but I’m so fucking glad you worked it out.”

Steve took a breath, waited, and the confusion did not clear. So he held up a hand and pointed down. “I am not even working out _ this _conversation. What are you talking about?”

“How the spell works!” Tony gestured at him. “Are you gonna make me say it?”

“Are _ you _ ?” Steve felt childish in countering. But those were the ways of serious discussions with Tony. “ _ Yeah _ , I kissed you. And now you're awake and…” he sighed, frowned at somewhere near Tony’s knee because he didn’t like the urge he had to apologize for the way he felt. “I didn’t know it was that…. that _ much _but you... well, now you know,” he settled down instead.

“Oh, you _ didn’t _ ….” Tony shuffled forward, letting himself fall back on his feet, staring at Steve with an expression of shock on his face. It took a few, excruciatingly long seconds of watching the cogs work, then Tony let out a delighted _ cackle _. To his credit, even if he was laughing at Steve, he did visibly try to stop when Steve send him a scowl. And got it under control pretty fast when the hurt in Steve's eyes became apparent.

“Wait… Sorry. Wait.” Tony took a few steps closer, prompting Steve to halt the half turn to walk away he hadn’t realised he’d started on. He spoke gently, something in his eyes like an apology and perhaps a plea. “Just let me get this…” Tony huffed out a small puff of air and quirked his lips. “uh, _ straight _, for lack of a better term.”

“Ha ha,” Steve deadpanned, looking away.

“Just.” Tony made an aborted move to reach out, as if afraid Steve was about to bolt. So, despite the very real desire to do so, Steve made himself relax his stance. “You kissed me.”

Steve resisted the urge to groan. Instead, he closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. “_ Yes _, Tony. Please, can you-...”

“You did so, under the assumption that your feelings for me would break the spell?” Tony cut in over him.

Opening his eyes, Steve turned a clenched-jawed look on Tony. He’d expected his friend to be more delicate about this, to, at least, wait for Steve not to be around to gloat. And this hurt. But something in Tony’s eyes didn’t fit properly with that notion. Yes, there was a hint of joy, but there was also a pinch to his eyebrows like he regretted having to needle Steve about this. That he wasn’t enjoying the humiliation he was causing. Steve had met enough bullies in his life to notice the difference, however confusing.

“Please? Steve. Just-.... Tell me.”

“Yes, Tony,” he ground out, unable to help the sarcasm. “Thank you for being the bigger man about this…”

But Tony had stopped listening. “_ Holy shit _ .” He came within arm’s reach of Steve, looking… the kind of excited and gleeful he did when he solved a puzzle, a usually very complex puzzle involving physics and computers. What followed quasi systematically was a word vomit of technobabble that, despite Tony knowing it left most people around him in the dust, he never contained. Like he _ couldn’t _ stop it. Like he _ had to _tell someone.

It kind of sucked, this time, because Steve would have very much preferred _ anyone else in the damned world _ to be here as the recipient of the _ omg guess what Captain America is hot for me _ Eureka ramble.

“Holy…. Fuck, this is…. Steve. C’mon, look at me.” Tony prodded. He grinned, wide and delighted when Steve met his eyes. “You didn't figure it out!”

Steve gave a half hearted glare back. He gestured, vaguely indicating Tony standing there, being all _ awake _. Obviously, the spell had been broken.

“Yes!" Tony beamed, excitement dancing in his eyes. "True love's kiss, Steve. _ My _ true love,” Tony articulated, tone insistent. Steve frowned, confused. Then meaning dawned on him, realization bringing a flush of heat from within.

He looked up sharply, breath short, searching Tony’s face for any indication he had misunderstood. Was he, somehow, misinterpreting what he’d just heard?

He labored to keep a cool head in order to make sure, before the instant surge of hope that had burst within him took him over entirely. It set him up for utter heartbreak, if he was reading this wrong in some way.

He felt warm all over, ears buzzing with a phantom howl of wind. Tony kept on talking, words fast and blurry, Steve struggling to grasp them over the spike in his heart rate, the rush in his veins, the adrenaline tingles of shock running to his extremities. “It would be too easy, right? If the kiss from someone who loves me would free me,” Tony contemplated, shrugging. “I mean, anyone who truly loved someone cursed would be willing to lay one on them to save them, right? And they could! Cause, not passed out and all. But, nooo….” Tony halted, took a breath, and… _ blushed _ . “The trick is that the one that I... that _ I _ love has to do it. I have to be saved by the one _ I _ want. The curse is that they have to decide it on their own, I can’t bargain, or buy it, or convince anyone. _ They _ have to find _ me _ worthy.” Tony flashed a quick quirk of the lips. “Or _ he _ does, in this instance.”

Steve stared, shocked immobile, reeling with the revelation. “Oh.” Reeling with the possibilities.

Tony, as per usual, it seemed, was quicker at processing. He stepped into Steve’s space, looking up at him with a small smile, eyes shining. “Hi.”

Steve was overcome with a giddy, breathless giggle at that. “Hi,” he answered, at a loss for how else to express what was going on in his mind.

Tony’s hand was on him, then, wrapping gently over his forearm. Steve closed his own around Tony’s elbow reflexively, eyes unable to part from Tony’s gaze. He followed, grinning back like a loon, wherever Tony was guiding him. He always had, in retrospect, physically and metaphorically.

They came to a stop only a few, slow, dreamy steps later, when the pile of mats Tony had clambered on earlier hit the middle of his back. Tony leaned part of his weight against it, flexing his hand against Steve’s arm minutely. “Can you do it again, so maybe this time I get to remember it?”

_ Yes _ . Yes, _ please _, so many times yes.

Steve brought his hand to Tony’s neck, fingertips finding curls at the back of his head, thumb tracing the underside of his jaw. He smiled, watching Tony’s eyes flick to his mouth and back, lips parted, blood thrumming with anticipation just like Steve’s. “What if it puts you back to sleep?” he couldn't help teasing. 

Tony snorted in laughter, and in the same movement, he pulled Steve down to join their lips.

Tony kissed with the shaky breathing and marvel of someone who, incredulous, gets to taste _ his love _for the first time. Steve kissed back with the desperation of someone who thought he would be forced to watch helplessly as he lost his own.

It started out careful nonetheless. Tony touched Steve’s arms and shoulders, almost petting them, as if to appease a skittish instinct of flight. Possibly, he was trying to prevent Steve panicking at the realization that he was being intimate with someone who was most definitely a man, or even kissing anybody at all.

And yes. A lot of this was uncharted territory, but it didn’t mean that Steve’s entire being wasn’t yearning to belong there. So, as much to assuage Tony’s fears as his own, he pulled back long enough to let Tony’s gaze focus on his, then smiled and went back for more. He kissed Tony harder, frankly, removing the tentative tiptoe of their first brushes of lips.

He trailed his fingers on Tony’s face. Beard, eyebrows. Then slid them into Tony’s shortly cropped hair. As if to show, _ Yes. I know exactly where I am and what it is that I am doing. And this is precisely what I want _. Tony seemed to get the message, small noise and a shiver escaping him. His hands snuck under Steve’s arms, resting on his back, and he tilted his head to follow Steve’s lead.

Emboldened, Steve parted his lips, delved in deeper, soon coaxing Tony to match him in intent and heat. Tony was bound to realize, just like in many other areas, Steve was a fan of escalation. Soon, their kisses were filthy, way past the line of appropriate if they hadn't been alone.

Tony swore under his breath, between feverish kisses, when Steve let go of some of his physical restraint to press him back into the mats, chest to chest. “Can’t believe I get to have this…” he mumbled, pulling Steve fully against him. He gave a quiet, hungry growl as he slid his hand around Steve’s frankly ridiculous waist and pressed their stomachs together. Steve’s huff of laughter at Tony’s antics died out in a strangled sound when he discovered the sensation of having a man, with a goatee and wicked sense of practice, mouth a path under your jaw towards the back of your ears.

“Y’can…” Steve shuddered, pushing his knee between Tony’s. “You do, Tony, _ fuck _ …” He tilted Tony’s head back gently, clumsily mouthing up the column of his throat. Just because it looked lovely, and he could taste it. He was allowed. God, he was _ welcome _ to it. 

Tony made a noise that was as much garbled moan as it was helpless laughter. “Oh my _ god _ , I made you swear! This is the best day _ ever _.”

Steve laughed, this time, breaking away to hide his face in Tony’s shoulder. “Today has improved,” he admitted. “_ dramatically. _” It coaxed another huff of giggles from Tony. 

They caught their breath for a minute, Tony moving so he stood with his forehead pressed to Steve’s temple. Steve drew lazy patterns on Tony’s shoulder and arm with his fingertips. He closed his eyes, indulging a pleased rumbling sound coming from his chest. Tony chuckled, nosing at his cheek, then lifted his chin to brush his lips against Steve’s jawline, then again to nip at it. Steve made a sound, tilted his head back, gripping Tony’s waist.

“Definitely ... _ definitely _not putting me to sleep.”

***

Late morning drew the remaining of the present Avengers out of their respective corners with the sound of two voices yelling over one another in a familiar way. 

Natasha had clearly been awake for a while, unless she somehow woke up looking ready to walk out the door. Bruce was in loungewear, reading glasses on. Clint, however, was sporting the squinty-eyed, rumpled look of someone who had clearly been startled out of sleep by their fearless leaders’ argument. He was currently eyeing the path to the kitchen, weighing his chances in accessing the coffee machine.

“...magic doesn’t seem to care about armors,Tony!” Steve shouted, sounding exasperated.

“So??” Tony’s voice shot back. “_ You _ were gonna jump in front of it! How do you know magic cares about super soldier serums?!”

Something slammed, someone made an indignant noise, then the voices became briefly muffled, before they got nearer and clearer. Tony stomped across half the living room, fuming, Steve in his wake, looking frustrated. “I care about all of you!”

Tony rounded on him and threw his hands in the air. “That’s great! Fantastic. Hey, same here.” He made a flailing gesture of frustration. “That doesn’t make it your goddamn fault when one of us gets hurt!”

“I’m responsible!” Steve shouted back, poking his own chest with his finger.

Tony closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Unless you’re not! There’s a definition to the term, maybe you should look it up!”

“It’s my _ job! _”

“_ Do not _make this about being Captain America-... ”

“I'm _ not _.”

“Or Team Leader!” Tony shouted over him, cutting him off. “The fault falls on you _ if you make a mistake _. I won’t let you blame your-...”

“You don’t have to _ let me _do anythin-...”

Everyone tensed when Tony took a step forward and got both hands on Steve, balling his fists in the front of his shirt. In a moment of fleeting panic, they wondered if this was coming to blows. “Dammit, Rogers,” Tony hissed, instead, and yanked Steve into a kiss. “Shut up,” he growled against Steve’s mouth. Steve, derailed, took a second to catch up. But then he got his hand on Tony’s hip, hauling him in roughly. It was hard to tell whether it was venting the aggression or a continuation of the argument. Tony, who didn’t seem to be perturbed by the way he was caged against the chest of a person who had superhuman strength and had been vibrating with anger seconds prior, leaned back after a moment. “I’m right about this,” he told Steve in a soft voice, hand cupping the soldier’s cheek for an instant. Then, he took a step backwards. Steve let him go, eyes focused on his face. Tony swallowed quickly, then pointed at Steve. “Now, _ you _ rethink your superhero guilt complex, and cut yourself some slack.” He jerked his thumb towards his own chest. “Meanwhile, _ I _ ’m going to shower.” Tony tilted his head, expression soft, yet serious. It said _ I don’t want to win the argument, I want us to agree_.

Steve took him in silently, and eventually he nodded.

Tony smiled faintly, then downright smirked, eyes twinkling. He ducked his eyebrows at Steve. “If you take too long, I’m starting without you,” he threatened, then whirled on his heel and headed towards his suite. “Hey guys,” he grinned at their teammates in passing.

Bruce let out a strangled snort of laughter at the greeting. Steve, however, dazed looking and pink cheeked, either failed to register their audience or refused to acknowledge their presence. After a beat, he hurried after Tony instead. 

"This is-… this is tactical warfare," Steve mumbled as they disappeared out of view. "S'not fair."

"Not warfare, Captain.” Tony sounded smug. “Tactical foreplay."

There was the sound of rushed movement, Tony’s yelp of laughter, a door slamming, and silence in their wake.

Clint’s gaze flicked from Natasha’s half smile to Bruce’s widened eyes. “...anyone else feel like they missed something with the whole curse thing?”

Bruce raised his hand. Natasha grinned. “Plus side, this is going to make interminable arguments much quicker to resolve. Better for us.” She started for the kitchen, artfully dodging the question. Clint followed. _ Coffee _.

“Better for us, assuming there is good soundproofing.”

“You have a point.”

“I’m sure we can put in a request to SI if it proves insufficient.”

**Author's Note:**

> I live off of comments! Tell me what you liked. What worked. What didn't.  
The better I work that out, the better stuff I can give you. :) 
> 
> Yes, my pseud is an Easter Egg.


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